


Someone Else's Heaven

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Asexual Castiel, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Castiel is not human, F/M, Godstiel - Freeform, Godstiel is directing, Hand Jobs, Helpless Dean, M/M, Master/Pet, Pining, Voyeurism, nothing is consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: Dean does not want to be Godstiel's companion. Castiel can outlast his stubbornness, but in the meantime, he sees to it that all of Dean's physical needs are taken care of. Whether Dean likes it or not.





	

Castiel smiled, settling back into the couch. 

He could have a throne- some big gilted thing that would better represent his status as the new God of heaven and earth- but he liked the couch. It reminded him of the time he’d spent on earth, with Dean… before everything had gone so wrong. 

Castiel permitted himself a small frown, and turned his attention back to his human. 

Dean was being recalcitrant again. 

Only a few days after being brought to Castiel’s heaven, Dean had begun to reject basic human necessities. He demanded to be set free. He gave Castiel orders. He made threats. 

He orchestrated what he termed a ‘hunger strike’ and Castiel had tiredly stepped in. He filled the human’s belly with food, saw to it that fluids filled his veins. He let Dean try to fight sleep for some time, but eventually his fingers brushed Dean’s clammy skin, and he slept. 

Currently, Dean was fighting vigorously against having yet  _ another  _ of his basic physical needs attended to. 

Today’s iteration was a succubus, voluptuous and beautiful, her full lips stretched wide around the girth of Dean’s member. She was skilled and eager, her bright eyes turned up to meet Dean’s own.  

And was Dean grateful? 

He was not. 

Castiel watched him shuddering as the succubus pleasured him- his mind was a maelstrom of disturbing memories and bitter imaginings. Like always, Dean was determined not to take comfort from the gifts that Castiel gave him. 

Castiel’s fingers twitched, his grace caressing Dean even as it held the human still. Dean moaned, his muscles tensing as his body reached it’s climax. 

The succubus withdrew and Castiel released him, letting Dean crumple onto his bed. The bed- the entire apartment- was  _ lavish, _ if Castiel had to put a word to it. He’d made sure of it. Dean’s well-being had been at the forefront of his mind, even before he’d gained the power to ensure it. 

Dean would see that, eventually. For the first time in his life he was warm and cared for, his belly full, his sleep unbroken by nightmares. And it was all because of Castiel. 

Dean curled up on his bed, pulling the blanket over his naked form. Castiel sighed, flicking two fingers toward the human. Beneath the covers, soft flannel pajamas covered the man’s body. Dean preferred to be dressed, for reasons Castiel had real problems comprehending. 

But Castiel humored him. It was the least he could do.  

 

At first, Dean had fought against the succubi, and the incubi. Worse than he’d fought against the food and the water and even sleep, he fought against them. 

Castiel was resigned to holding him down, holding him still as the creatures worked him over. They were skilled- Castiel knew that much, even though he himself had no interest in their talents. 

Dean did. He screamed and fought- particularly at first, particularly the incubi- but Castiel knew Dean’s body. He’d rebuilt it cell by cell after raising Dean from the pit, and he knew the kinds of touches that would please him. 

Castiel directed the creatures, telling them where and how to touch his human. And Dean had sworn he didn’t want it, that it wasn’t good- and yet each time he found release. The creatures would leave him panting and sated and Castiel was pleased. 

 

In a way, Castiel enjoyed being part of Dean’s life in this way. When the day came that Dean accepted his new position, Castiel would happily relinquish these responsibilities back into Dean’s hands- but in the meantime, he couldn’t help but find a strange sort of satisfaction in caring for his obstinate companion. 

 

Eventually, Dean began to lose his will to fight. He ate when ordered to. He drank the sweet clear water that Castiel brought him. And he stopped swinging his fists at the succubi. He kept up the resistance within his own mind, but he no longer fought them. Castiel began to pay less attention to their activities. 

 

Until one day, Castiel was drawn back, because Dean was praying. Undoubtedly, clearly, reverently  _ praying. _

Castiel burst into Dean’s room to find the human beneath an incubus. He lay on his back, his hands cupping the face of the creature making love to him. 

“ _ Cas, _ ” Dean cried, and his eyes were full of tears as he looked into the incubus’s visage-

It was  _ him, _ Castiel realized with a start. The creature’s image was  _ his, _ the eyes that Dean stared into were his own brilliant blue. 

And for the first time since this debacle had begun, Dean was not fighting. His body was relaxed beneath the incubus, his hips tilting upwards to take pleasure from the creature’s cock. 

“Cas,” Dean moaned again. “Cas, Cas,  _ Cas- _ ” 

The incubus reached between them, stroking Dean’s cock in time with his thrusts, and Dean threw his arms around the creature’s shoulders, pulling him down and holding him close as their combined bodies found release. 

Dean’s lips found the incubus, pressing their mouths together in a parody of sweetness. 

Castiel was appalled. 

“This is  _ blasphemy, _ ” Castiel growled. His wings spread across the room, black and horrible, and the incubus barely had time to glance up in horror before he was incinerated. 

Dean reached out blindly, his hand passing through empty smoke that had, only a moment ago, been living flesh. 

His eyes widened and he  _ screamed, _ a sound of pure anguish, unmarred by hate or rage. 

Castiel was at his side in a moment, seeking to reassure him. Dean reached for him, pulling him close. 

“Cas, man, come back to me,” he whispered. “Don’t do this. This isn’t you.”

“ _ That _ wasn’t me,” Castiel corrected him, pushing the human gently back. But it gave him an idea. 

 

Castiel usually waited several days between succubi, but he found himself actually looking forward to this new plan.    
The day after the blasphemous incubus, Castiel appeared in Dean’s room again. Dean regarded him apprehensively. 

“Come to evaporate me too?” he asked. Castiel only shook his head. 

He extended his hand toward Dean, but the human didn’t take it. Castiel sighed and shrugged slightly. Their surroundings shifted, growing warm and steamy. Dean’s jacket and jeans vanished, leaving him naked and barefoot on the wet stone. For his part, Castiel rarely bothered with clothes nowadays. 

“Where are we now?” Dean asked, looking around. 

“The heaven of a rather strange young woman from Ohio,” Cas answered truthfully. It was based partly on a real place- a hot spring in Hawai’i. The stone floor surrounded a recessed pool of warm water, and the space was enclosed by walls of bamboo and reed. 

There was a perpetual night outside, though the inside of the room was lit with a warm light that had no particular source. The sound of insects filled the growing silence between them. 

“So what now?” Dean asked at last. “Isn’t there supposed to be a troop of assholes here to fuck me for you?” 

Cas shook his head again. 

“I thought we’d try something else.” 

“Oh goodie,” Dean snarked. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and Castiel didn’t miss the way his arms crossed over his chest. As if after all of this, Dean had anything to hide from him. 

Castiel turned his back, walking lightly toward the water. There were steps carved into the stone, leading down into the chest-deep water. Castiel walked down two of them, then turned back to Dean, his hand extended. 

Dean was staring at him. 

There was apprehension there, Cas could see. But beneath it, there was a spark of what he’d seen before, the  _ desire _ that Dean had felt when he’d looked at the incubus. 

It was a desire that Castiel hadn’t seen in him since before the gates of purgatory had opened. 

Castiel beckoned again, and Dean stepped slowly forward. 

He paused at the edge of the water, but after a moment he stepped down. Castiel was glad. He’d force the human if he needed to, but he didn’t think it would be an ideal outcome. 

The water was just a touch too cool, and Castiel warmed it with a thought, noting the shiver that crossed Dean’s shoulders. 

“What’s supposed to happen now?” Dean asked when the water reached his waist. Castiel looked up at him, a smile on his lips. 

“I thought we’d take a bath,” the angel answered simply. 

 

It took time to coax Dean the rest of the way into the water. It took even longer to convince the human to turn his back. 

Perfumed oil dripped from Castiel’s fingers as he ran them over Dean’s arms. With a thought, he summoned a soft cloth, using it to work the oil into the human’s shoulders and back. 

It smelled like lilies; a scent Dean enjoyed, even if he claimed otherwise. 

 

Cas’s fingers ran through Dean’s hair, raising the soap into a lather as he did. Dean’s eyes were already closed, he barely noticed when it ran in frothy trails down his face. 

Cas guided him back, using his weight to support Dean’s body as he floated in the water. The soap dissipated, leaving Dean’s hair a shining gold in the unsteady light. 

He splashed at his face, washing away the soap, and then he was looking up at Castiel. 

“Why’re you doing this, Cas?” he asked quietly. 

“I want things to be different,” Castiel answered. He ran the cloth lower over Dean’s body, anointing him with the lilied oil. 

Dean didn’t react, just stared up at Castiel, floating lightly on the angel’s grace. 

“I don’t,” Dean answered at last. “I want things to be like they were.” 

“I can’t give you that,” Castiel answered, and now it was his fingers that trailed along Dean’s skin, leaving slick trails of oil behind them. 

“I want my friend back,” Dean choked. His eyes closed and he hissed as Castiel’s hand rested on the thatch of hair between his legs. “Ah, Cas…” 

“I can’t be who I was,” Castiel admitted. His fingers closed around Dean’s cock, stroking softly against the flaccid length. “But my feelings toward you have not changed.” 

Dean didn’t answer, just kept his eyes closed, floating. 

 

Castiel worked him slowly, watching as Dean hardened beneath his hands. The oil was smooth and sweet on his fingers, and before too long, Dean was arching up into his hands. The human panted as he sought his relief from Castiel, and when he came, the angel was pleased to note that he hadn’t fought it. 

Not at all.   

 

The next night, when Dean found himself again at the side of the spring, he did not need so much persuading. 

 

Castiel adored the sight of him, his skin wet and flushed, his breath coming in gasps as Castiel caressed him. 

 

They couldn’t do it every night- Castiel was the new god, after all, he had responsibilities. But they did it as often as Castiel could manage. 

After a few months, Dean began to eat on his own again, even going so far as to request things. Things which Castiel was happy to supply, of course. 

He was glad to see Dean doing better. 

Dean was destined to be his lifelong companion, and Castiel planned to live a long, long time. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> While I was writing this I listened to the entirety of the 1994 Canadian Cast recording of Phantom of the Opera, which is undisputedly the best version ever recorded or performed. You can argue with me but you'd be wrong.   
> I know it's the best because I saw it when I was a kid, my Mom took me to see it and the next day I wore out every black marker in Mrs. Fry's kindergarten classroom trying to re-create the riverboat scene. The one with the candles. You know the one.   
> I had to use crayons, the entire thing was a massive disaster. 
> 
> ... I swore I wasn't even gonna *look* at the October prompts until I had September cleared out. And did I stick to that? 
> 
> I did not.


End file.
